


Lo Siento

by aeonouji



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: DFAB reader, Other, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Spoilers, gender ambiguous reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:39:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeonouji/pseuds/aeonouji
Summary: You gotta admit your life was pretty normal after the whole thing.(the title and non bonus chapters are inspired by the Super Junior song of the same name)





	1. William Blake did not prepare you for this

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta satiate that v thirst.

You had a pretty normal life. 

You lived a little way outside of Red Grave in a city area. Of course, a few months had passed since the incident in May. And of course, you had been called in to help. But, there was a kick to your situation.  You and V had fallen into less than grateful graces. By that, you meant you two had messed around and then he was gone. So was Dante and his brother Vergil.

You still kept in contact with everyone though. Nico came to visit sometimes and Nero brought food. Trish and Lady were too busy keeping up with Dante’s rent. Still, that part of your life was behind you. Everything was done and over with there was no reason for you to go back into that part of your life. You were more focused on getting work and you did. You worked odd jobs and whatever looked like it had a good pay.

Today was a day off and you were starting to stare blankly out your kitchen window. One of your close friends was sitting beside you smoking as she usually did at your place. Her form rested lax on the chair. Her head tilted back as she exhaled the smoke into the ceiling. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head to my car real quick.” She said as she stood up from her chair with a grunt. You gave hummed in response. You were too tired to actively speak. As such, you closed your eyes as you listened to her walk towards the door with the pitter-patter of the rain as the background noise. 

“Uh- hey dude,” you heard her call out, “There’s a guy here standing in front of your door with a bird on his shoulder.”

You doubt her. Quietly you chuckle and rest your head on your own chair’s back. 

“Little wanderer, hie thee home.” You let your eyes close tight as you wait for her cheeky response back. When you don’t get one in return, try to call out to her. She doesn't say a word. You don't hear the creak of her feet nor the sound of her forming the snide words she would usually say with ease rather, all you hear is a squawk and the flap of wet feathers.

You quickly turn and proceed to fall out of your chair. Your head making impact with the wooden back as it made contact with floor. When you turn your head up, you find the sight of an amused V. His lanky form even more thin with how his clothing clings to his form. On your patio rail sits Griffon, his split beak caws as if to mock you.

You glare at the bird as V gives way to a snide smirk. A quiet chuckle leaving his lips as he watches you clamber up from your spot. Your glare softens as you laid your eyes on V. Or was it Vergil? You could have sworn that V was gone for good. Oh fuck, V stares at you curiously, an impish smirk on his features.

Quick, say something.

“Uh.” Smooth. You should mentally smack yourself. You brush the imaginary dust off your clothes and stand between your friend and V. You said your goodbyes. And yet- here he was. To add salt to the wound, he had a car. Not just any car, no, in the fancy car you weren't sure what model it was, V had claimed it brand new. With someone sitting driver side.

He smiles and turns to wrap his wet knuckle on the screen door metal frame. With his wet hair matted to his face, he doesn't say a word. Your friend looks between the two of you.

You, with your failure to speak a sentence to the handsome goth man who was right out of a gothic romance novel. Blatantly failing to utter a coherent sentence as if there was chemistry between you (you’d sooner die than admit the past tense or otherwise- because really you two had done the horizontal tango but it was so short lived you would hardly call it romance).

And him, with his refusal to speak, but somehow oozing a quiet knowledge of being acquainted with you. Still getting pelted with rain.

“We-” the both of you blurted simultaneously, only to cut each other off. You laugh nervously, your hand finding its way to rub the back of your neck. Griffon raps his beak on the glass of the door.

You knew that as your cue, “Uh, Ver- V, please come in.”

 

Turns out, V did not come solely by himself and a random person. No, he came to your humble abode with  _ Vergil _ in tow. Yes, that Vergil. He stood menacingly dry in casual clothing. If you consider a dress shirt and slacks casual. Your friend sat at the table once more staring between the three of you.

You gesture to the two men, first you wave your hand over to Griffon and the man you consider “totally your type and you hated that you could admit that plus lost a lot of your firsts to” with a slight unwillingness to your voice, “This is V- yes that is his name and yes those tats and taste in clothes are real- the oversized chicken is Griffon.”

You snicker at your unintended rhyme.

“That's Vergil,” you can't make fun of him, so you just tell the truth, “He's the brother of a work buddy and also V's brother.”

V chuckles quietly as he listens to the question in the statement. You, uh, couldn't really put a label on what Vergil and V were. Well, that would make even the slightest amount of sense. But wouldn't V technically be Vergil's son in this sense. The guy was born  _ from _ Vergil. Albeit, through separating both human and demon halves of one man.

“Oh, that's the guy you have as your home and lockscreen.” She points at V, much to your dismay, then glances over to the man glaring daggers at the table.

“That means his name is your passcode.” Your face turns red. The heat rushed to your cheeks as your glare at your table as well. God, you wanted to curl up and die. Your ears, red as they were, picks up on the sound of an exhaled breath that sounded pretty close to a snide laugh. Too high in pitch to be V and too human to be Griffon. Vergil was for sure laughing at your feeble attempt to remember a former flame for what he really was. Then another caw.

Your bury your face in your hands.

 

“Looks like the girlie outed you.”

“Shut it or I'll fry you and give you to my family as a party dinner.”

You glare at the bird.

 

You brought the two of them to your room.

Not for something like  _ that _ . But for fear someone would walk in while you were having a conversation with two very attractive men and a bird. Of course, your friend left with other things to tend to. She called it “family things” you called it “getting the fuck out of what looked like an awkward situation: maneuver 5”. You could hardly blame her. With how V kept quiet and Vergil glaring daggers at anything that breathed, yeah you could hardly blame her.

“So, while I was busy mourning you,” you turn your head to face the man drying off, “and you were busy beating the shit out of Dorkte, what the ever-loving fuck happened?” 

Your head then turned to look at the man leaning against the wall next to the light switch. You high-five yourself for your dig at Dante. He was not excluded from playful teasing. Despite him not being here. V sighs as he undoes the cording of his jacket. The gesture distracts you for a moment as he shrugs off the leather jacket to the floor. The towel draped around his shoulders as he starts to get out of his wet clothing. The sound of wet fabric hitting your lovely hardwood floors did not sit well with you.

“ _ Every wolf's and lion's howl _

_ Raises from Hell, a human soul _ .” 

Your eyes are closed but you know that he's got a smirk on his face. Exasperated, you sigh because his enigmatic attitude and the confidence of his response means he would rather you didn't know or rather- you probably wouldn't like the answer. But, from the sound of it, shit went down in Hell.

You open your eyes again and look to Vergil for a more translated answer. He stares back for a moment before closing his own and crosses his arms.

“By the time Dante and I had gotten out of the Underworld, V had woken up outside his shop with his memories and powers while I had kept those same recollections.”

“I'm supposed to believe that you just happened to go through the cell division process but some freaky mishap went down and then V appeared?”

You were doubtful. You got the gist now at least. Resigned you pat the spot in front of you. V sits in front of you. As you fumble for your hair dryer, Vergil leaves the room.

“And where are you going?”

“Call me when you've settled things V.”

And like that he left the two of you alone.

 

You dried V's hair for him.

It was the least you could do while he waited for you in the rain. As you laced your fingers through his hair, his familiar returned to the ink on his skin. The dark swirls of patterns felt familiar under your touch. When your hands would skim his shoulders, those patterns felt like home. Within those few moments you spent together, those chaste and brief moments, you had admittedly fallen in love with him. And he, you.

When his hair was dry, you gave him clothes you had been given by your brothers. So the situation was less awkward. So now, you could look at him without focusing on his mostly naked form. Or how his tattoos looked like art dancing on his skin with every calculated move he made.

Fuck. No, focus, you. Now was not the time to get distracted by libido. That doesn't stop your hand from taking his. The touch is light. And he lets you.

“V, I- Where-” you sigh, “I missed you.”

“I didn't go a single moment without you in my thoughts, moonlight.”

“...Is that why Vergil kept glaring at me..?”

“...There is a mite of a chance Vergil is also enamored with you like I.”

You chuckle.

“If I end up in a You-Vergil sandwich, I wouldn't mind.” You joke. And he chuckles. He turns his palm towards you letting his palm brush the skin of your hand. The feeling is feathered and your pulse skips like it did those months ago. Like when you first go onto this rollercoaster.

Your glance lingers on your hands intertwined before you pull away. No, you couldn't find it in yourself to do this. This emotional conflict. What if he would be gone for good after an even shorter time? The possibility is too likely for your tastes and it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. You sit further away from him.

V, in return, inches closer until your back is to the wall. His hands barricade you with nowhere to run. You're scared.

Not of him, but of him disappearing again. You couldn't do this. You- “Sunshine, I can't- I can't do this- not  _ again _ .”

There's warmth on your skin, a single tear to breach the dam and set off the flood of tears. Shakily, you clench a fistful of his shirt feebly pushing him away. Your soft hiccups making him drop his arms.

“Fuck, why am I like this,” you use your palms to rub away the coming tears, “I should be happy- fucking ecstatic that you're here but I'm- I'm scared you're gonna- you're gonna leave me.”

He doesn't speak. His arms find their way wrapped around you. His nose buried in your hair as he pulls you closer to him. You bury yourself deeper into him. Weak sobs leaving your lips as you cry into him.

He speaks up when your hiccups calm down, “Moonlight, I'm not going anywhere without you lighting my way.”

You manage a weak chortle through the sobs.

“That was corny and none of William Blake or any poet would have prepared me for that.”

You sigh and wipe away the last of your tears.

“God, I really fucking missed you Sunshine.” You manage to admit before your eyes meet his. Being in his arms like this- you really wanted to believe him. He loosens his hold on you as your hands move up along his chest. Dragging warmth up his neck to cup his cheeks. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before your bring yours to meet his with hesitance. His own hands go to cup your own.

 

You kiss V for the first time since he left you.

And he kisses you back with twice as much fervor.

 

The static that hit you like when you took a long drag of a smoke, that light-headed high, but instead of nicotine- it was this man undoing your very being. V pushes you down onto your bed. His cold hands sliding up and underneath your form fitting shirt. Inching the fabric higher and higher until the bottom of the shirt's hem was placed just above your chest. Your hands tug the shirt off his back. Rushed actions leave light red nail marks up his back from your overeager undressing of him. 

God, how long had you forgotten his touch? His long fingers caressing your skin as he placed open mouth kisses up the line his hand traced. The warmth of his lips on your skin has you gasping at each lingering touch. Your back arches as his free hand moves down your spine. His fingers stopping right before your jeans. Those fingers slide to the front stopping just short of the button. As he undoes you with his lips, his calloused hands undress you with little to no struggle.

His beautiful mouth leaves love bites along your collarbone and neck. His voice is soft and careful as he lifts your shirt off your head and tosses it to the farthest side of the room. You hear it make impact with your bathroom door. You quietly moan into his touch as he bites down slightly on a more obvious love bite. He tediously pulls down the zipper of your jeans as you find your lips forming pleas to just take you.

“ _ Oh, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do _ -” You set his voice as your call ringtone. That was your phone. Fucking damn it.

Your phone chose now of all times to go off. Begrudgingly, you answer the phone. On the other line is your best friend asking to be let in. You scramble for clothes and find a spare shirt. V carefully helps you look too.

His hands drape a shirt around your shoulders as you put your arms through the sleeves. Hurriedly you rush to let her in as V rushed to get a shirt back on. As you trip on your way to open the door, you breathe a heavy sigh and look back at your door. After the mood was ruined, you doubt he would stay for any longer.

“Hey- ooh, was I interrupting something?”

You blatantly lie to her face, “Pfft, no, Vergil just left so V and I were doing some talking.”

She hums and stares you down.

“The type of talking that has you change from a tee to a dress shirt.”

She points to your neck. A smirk on her face as she goes to your room. She knocks on the door with a more impish smile on her face.

“Come on out lover boy, I know you two were making out.”

 

You bury your face in your palms yet again.

 

She decided she would leave once the rain stopped. The two of you smoked in your room while V cleaned up. You had insisted since his hands were cold and you felt bad for leaving him out in the cold rain like you did.

In a low voice, she asks, “So this was the guy who broke your heart in Red Grave- want me to beat him up?”

“What- no, I’d like his everything to be intact, plus our situation was...special.”

“His  _ everything _ ?” You give her a light shove. She waggles her eyebrows and nudges you with her elbow.


	2. 1.05 Screw Horror Games involving phones honestly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus about being scared of horror games and two men who were kinda unsympathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't play horror games before bed.

“Veeeeeeee,” you called out as he walked out of the bathroom. You had spent most of the night playing a few horror games with a close friend. You, with your conflicting former demon hunting occupation, were afraid of a horror game. As he walked out, he glanced up from tying his sweatpants. Vergil was already fast asleep. He said he would comfort you if you actually got night terrors but nothing more. Vergil was already buried under blankets on your right side. V looks at you curiously and takes the spot beside you on your left.

With a worried smile he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Yes, love, what's wrong?”

“She decided to play horror games and I hated it.”

He would never understand why you decided to enable your friend like this. Still, she also went along with your whims when neither he or Vergil couldn't, so both of you were at fault. You took his hand and pulled him towards you. Your head buried in his chest as he settled himself under the blankets. You didn't whimper but the way you fiddled with your sleeve and nails told him enough.

He smiles and lets you nestle into his side. You glance up at him with a pleading look, “Will you read something for me?”

He honestly loved this childish side of you. It meant the world that you felt safe with him. And he felt loved by you. The same could also be said for Vergil despite his more... _ gruff _ attitude towards your current predicament. V strokes your hair. As he adjusts the pillows to sit up slightly, he takes his time choosing a happy book to read to you. Despite the choices, he decides that it would be better to read poetry to you instead.

“ _ I went to the Garden of Love, _

_ And saw what I never had seen:-” _

“So you decide to read Blake to them.” Vergil huffs as he wraps around you. You frown delicately at the man with his cheek rested against your arm. Vergil had turned to face you while V had focused on stroking your hair. His focus more on your comfort to the point of not noticing you already drifting off. You struggled to keep your eyes open as he kept his voice soft reciting those first lines. You even managed to keep a weak hold of his hand. Its place remained rested your stomach as you laid with pillows supporting you enough to barely sit up. The ring on your ring finger glimmers in the light provided by the dimmed lamps on the wall.

“Play...nice,” you mumble as he and Vergil talked.

“I'd hardly consider anything else calming enough,” he murmurs, “unless you have a better suggestion.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You may as well have read  _ Auguries of Innocence _ and it would have had the same effect.” He offers. Despite his harsh tone, it comes out soft due to his volume diluted to a dulcet hush. Sleepily, you take one of Vergil's hands as well. Your other hand took loose hold of his own. Once more you struggle to say, “Play nice.”

You lips fell parted as both men pulled the blanket over you as much they could. With the slow rise of your chest, they also attempt to get you to lay down properly. At least, for now until you tossed and turned trying to leech onto whatever warmth you could later on in the night.

“Goodnight little wanderer.” He whispers into your ear. Vergil gets out of your bed to turn the lights off completely.

 

You woke with a frightened start.

Of course, it was always after the most horrible part and you couldn't go to the bathroom. Mostly in part due to the lights being off completely. You really hated how scared you got sometimes. You huff a sigh and clamber out of bed. You nudge away both V and Vergil's arms away from your waist and hips. They could cuddle you like this but not get along? You fumble out and climb over V. He blinks awake and it takes everything in you not to jump out f your skin when his hand suddenly touches yours.

“Jesus christ Sunshine,” you harshly whisper.

“Apologies, were you getting up to use the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” you manage awkwardly. It was still too early before you had to go to work anyway. You glance at your phone's clock. Four o’ five. Fuck. You manage to fumble for the light and use the bathroom. Quickly washing your hands and drying them off, you don't turn off the light. As you clamber back into bed, V pulls the blanket over you again, intertwining your hand with his underneath the covers. He sleepily places a kiss to your temple. Vergil snakes an arm around you that makes you jump out of your skin too. Christ, these men. You hear V chuckle.

“It's only a game,” he murmurs into your ear.

“Mhm,” you hear Vergil vocalize, “‘can't hurt you here.”

If your heart would stop doing what it was doing, you would have giggled at the way Vergil's speech slurred.

 

“Fuck you and fuck  _ Sara is Missing _ .”

“How are you a demon hunter but scared of horror games..?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual chapter 2 coming soon.


	3. 1.18 Pity Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being alone isn't fun and especially not on a momentous day like your birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this on my birthday. So a day late, but its whatever.

Your makeup was light. Some red eyeshadow and color to your lips. You even put on eyeliner. Today was a beautiful day. You were going out for lunch and coffee. You even dressed nicely. A smile on your glossed lips as you step out of your door.

 

When you come back from your lunch, your friend had to leave for work. Leaving you to your own devices. You remove your makeup and sigh. Alone.

 

You tossed the shopping bag onto your table. With a sigh, you plop down into a chair and rummage through your pockets for a lighter. With a weak smile you place it onto the table. As you look through your bag for the lone fruit pie you bought and go searching through the house for a candle.

When you manage to find one, contemplate whether or not it was possible to stick the candle into the crust of the pie. Deeming it not worth the wasted effort, you hold the candle between your fingers as you sing “happy birthday” in your head. Your eyes watching the candle flicker as you hum to yourself.

As you prepare to blow out the candle, a knocking echoes through your home from the door. With a sigh, you cut the song short and blow out the candle signifying twenty one years passed. You were certainly living it up. In your house. Alone. With no family or friends to celebrate with. Hell, V was off on a job.

Anyone associated with Dante was busy with their personal matters. Plus, you were never one to impose yourself onto others. So you instead opted to buy cheap convenience store food and sit in your house in the dark for a moment. Your family even forgot. But you understood that, your family was busy. So were your friends. Despite the small amount you had. Everyone except you was busy today.

You fan the smoke away before going to see who was at your door. As you open the door, you look through the peephole. It was just some church group trying to get you to listen as they talk your ear off. You leave them at the door. As you walk your way back to your dining table, you light only the corridor leading to your room. You toss out the fruit pie wrapper and eat as you walk to your bedroom with juice and chips in your other hand. Sighing, you place the bag down on your bed.

As you climb underneath the blankets, you hear a knocking on your door once again. With an angry huff, you grab a blade this time. Could you not be gross and alone in peace?! You go to look in the peep hole only for it to be obscured by a hooded figure. Fully prepared to fight for your life, you swing the door open, with your eyes shut tight, you fully prepare for the figure to attack you.

You're instead greeted by party poppers and a group of people exclaiming, “Happy Birthday!”

Holding a party popper and directly in front of you is...Dante. Under his arm is a small bundle of flowers. On either side of him is Lady and Trish. Both holding a used party popper as well.

“We came to drop this off from Nero and Kyrie.” Lady hands you the basket at her feet. From the smell you can tell that it's probably something sweet. Probably a cake, or maybe something you could choke on happily. As she hands your the basket, Dante ruffles your hair and places the bouquet on top of the basket. 

“And my bro sends his ‘regards’.” Dante didn't have to put that in air quotes. You nods and stare at the flowers. White roses and a mix of blue roses too. Huh, so Vergil missed you- wherever he was. Trish steps up and pats your shoulder. Her ruby red lips curl into a smile as she goes to ruffle your hair as well.

You grunt when she greets, “Happy twenty-first.”

Trish and Lady leave first leaving you and Dante alone.

 

“Yeah, happy legal day, kiddo.” Dante plucks a long streamer out of your hair.

“Wish I had someone to spend it with.” You mumble as you stare down at the blue and white roses. 

“Wish I could keep ya company but-” you cut him off.

“I get it,” you place the basket and flowers down, “not everyone can have a free day off.” You shrug and lean against the doorframe brushing the confetti off of your head. He stares down at your attire. You weren't really planning on going out- V was busy and so was Vergil. So, you opted for wearing a baggy red hoodie with shorts and leggings underneath. Of course, you also had on your cute house slippers. Your hair was also very not brushed. Again, you couldn't be fucking bothered.

Dante decides to speak up, “So… no special plans?”

You shake your head as you pull out a small thermos with something cold and sweet smelling inside. There's a strange after smell that makes you guess it's alcohol. Nero kept his word of trying to find something you'd like. You pour out some into the cup of the thermos. You gulp down what is in your cup before promptly closing it and handing it to Dante. You glare at the thermos in his hands before replying, “Does this look make it seem like I'm going out for a night on the town..?”

He chuckles before taking a sip out of whatever drink was prepared by Nero. He doesn't have such an avid reaction as you did because he goes for a second round. You grimace before gruffly looking off, “Tell Nero to give up on finding me a drink- I'm totally fine with water and being sober.”

Dante turns and leaves.

 

For an hour you sat in your room watching your favorite animated movies and listened to long videos of music playing in the rain as you sat and ate your chips. You had placed Nero and Kyrie's presents in your fridge. They had so sweetly packed a cake and some of your favorites. As you were about to play an anime vampire movie from the eighties, you could hear a faint knock on your door.

Refusing to get out of bed, you let the stranger stand at your door for a while longer. When the knocking persists, you get out of bed with a huff. Fully prepared to chew out the stranger, you swing the door open.

“Do you not fuckin-” V is panting heavily with his hands resting on his knees. His form is keeled over while Griffon carries his cane between his talons.

“I,” pause for a wheeze, “for-forgot-”

“That my birthday was today.”

You help him in and grab a bottle of water for him. V settles into a nearby chair. With sweat matted hair against his forehead, and his chest still heaving, you take the seat beside him.

“It's fine,” you shrug as Griffon perches atop your chair. Your eyes not meeting his as you contemplate throwing out the lone candle resting beside the empty fruit pie box (how did you throw out the wrapper but not the box..? You claim momentary loneliness) as you shuffle around in your seat. Truth be told, you never really celebrated with your family.

Rather, you felt too much of a burden to celebrate when they had better things to do. You always got so excited for your birthday when you were younger.

...when did that change? You let a hand rest on your knee. You clench your hand under the table. V looks up at you. Your eyes darken at the last handful of years- not celebrating your birthday. Years of dreading it, for that fear of loneliness as they just gave you money to buy your own presents. When did it all change? When did  _ you  _ change? When did you distance yourself to the point of them not being able to have long conversations without biting words? Your second oldest brother certainly tried, and you did too. But holidays pass and you don't even remember how long it's been since you heard them physically sit down and tell you “happy birthday”.

“I'm fine,” you say to yourself. You clench your hand tighter. There would be a bruise on your knee from how harsh and tight your grip was. You swallow the lump in your throat. Were you holding back tears..? Fuck, you sigh and stare at your house slippers.

Your lips tighten into a thin line as you try to stop yourself from crying. You press your palm into your eyes and sigh again, “This is fine.”

He gently places his hand atop of yours, “You're alone on your birthday.”

“It's always been like this,” you state abruptly.

“It shouldn't be.” He returns.

“I've been alone like this every time,” you sigh and try to pull your hand from his. He holds onto your hand a little tighter this time. You swallow that lump caught in your throat again. You glare at your feet. You're scared that if you look into those everclear moss green eyes, you'll cry and show that weak side you hated to show. He would reassure you but, you would still feel the burning shame of weakness. You loathed it. You hold back whatever is eating at you slowly. You sigh is more shaky when you let it escape your lips.

“You shouldn't be alone,” he counters, “this isn't the day to be.”

This time you pull away completely. His touch gone from your skin as you stand throwing your chair back.

“I've always been alone,” you began, “on New Years, Christmas, today, every night you're gone, Vergil is gone, everyone is busy and- and I'm here sitting in the fucking quiet of my own damn mind.”

You continue on raising your voice with every sentence, “I sit here waiting for someone- for something to come and break the fucking  _ silence _ I have to sit in. You don't think I know I shouldn't be alone? I hear it every single time- every single damn time people have to remind me to speak up and tell me ‘You're not alone you can come talk to me’ every  _ fucking time _ . I can't- I can't because I'm used to being let down and left alone!”

You fall back into your seat. You cover your mouth with your palm and look out of the window. V doesn't say a word. You don't let a single damn tear fall. You sigh and let your hand fall on the table. In a soft, almost inaudible voice you add, “I'm  _ used _ to it.”

His hand is gentle as he takes it into his.

“I'm sorry that I let you be alone for this long,” he murmurs. Griffon returns to the ink on his skin. He does but not before giving a quip like he usually did. His facetious attitude breaks the silence.

“Looks like you got your work cut out for ya, V.”

 

V pulls you to your room. His careful hands bring you the bed. Those gentle words that you loved felt like added salt. He didn't have to take care of you. Yet, here he was. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ears as he guides you toward the bed. His hands are cautious as he slips off your slippers. His lips press carefully to your ankles before standing before you. Your sad reflection in your door mirror.

He changes into other clothes while you stare down at your feet again. He moves your snacks and drinks to the small table tucked into the corner of your room. He guides you under the sheets. His lips press against your temple. His gentle and slender fingers reach for the hem of your hoodie, nudging it off of you. As you let him take it off you, be presses more gentle kisses to your bare skin.

“V.” You finally manage to speak as he pulls the blankets over you. You straddle his lap and place your hands on his shoulders.

“I'm fine,” you lie, “I- I'm alright.”

You can finally feel the tears drop as he stares into your eyes. Your cover your face with your hands and sob gently into them. The tears dropping from your face and onto your lap. Your tears lost in the dark fabric of your shorts.

 

You manage to stop crying. He waited for you to finish and pulls the laptop into both of your laps with your head rested on his shoulder. This time the quiet jingle of keys rouses you from your spot. V gets up instead, he places a reassuring kiss to your hair.

When he returns, you see his hand search for the light switch and flick it off. As the room goes dark, you hear the creak of the door open and the soft light of candles. The soft singing of “happy birthday” following suit as V and Vergil's faces are illuminated with the candlelight. Vergil carries the cake that was in the fridge as the two of them sing to you.

“Time to make a wish, moonlight.”

“Vergil, V-” you start before stopping yourself. Tears falling again. V rushes to turn on the light as Vergil places the cake down and the two rush to remedy your tears.

“What's wrong?” The urgency in Vergil's voice is so loving, it takes all of yourself not to go and hug both men. You shake your head. These were happy tears. They felt nice.

“Thank you,” you manage through tears. They both let out a relieved sigh. Vergil brings the cake over as you take a deep breath.

You blow out the candles with joy on your face as Vergil wipes away the tears. V walks off to find a knife as you apologised for suddenly crying. Vergil kisses your brow and removes his jacket. His gloved hand rested on your cheek as he murmurs sweet words to you.

“I'm glad you were born on this day,” Vergil confides, “and I'm glad to have met you.”

You smile as you go to kiss his lips. A smile on your lips as V comes back and places the knife down. You kiss him happily and sit up to bring both men in for a tight hug.

 

_ Maybe, this was going to be the start of birthdays surrounded by love. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next one is chapter 2.


End file.
